


i still ache to know the song that he sung

by eversall



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pirates, Slightly Crack-ish, complete disregard for time periods, minor Angel/Darwin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 08:45:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7633264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eversall/pseuds/eversall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hank looks relieved at that.<br/>“Oh.” He says. “You’re not going to exhort us for money, then. I’m glad.” He smiles prettily, and Alex groans.<br/>“We’re pirates.” Alex mutters. “You can’t say stuff like that, Bozo. Do you have any self-preservation skills?”<br/>.<br/>Alex only looks and dresses like the rakish pirates from the covers of romance novels; he's really more the swooning, pining maidens that pirates hold in their arms when it comes to Hank McCoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i still ache to know the song that he sung

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DustAddsCharacter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustAddsCharacter/gifts).



> for [ DustAddsCharacter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DustAddsCharacter/pseuds/DustAddsCharacter), who suggested a pirates AU - THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE PLOT BUNNIES. I took the prompt and promptly (heh) turned it into a fic where pretty much the only pirate thing about them is that they're CALLED pirates. IM SORRY. 
> 
> and a wild warning here for completely historically inaccurate pirates. just. ignore the history mish-mash we have going on here. 
> 
> title taken from barcelona by george ezra

Alex thinks that all things considered, he’s a pretty good pirate. He’s appropriately threatening, looks really fucking hot in the loose white shirts and leather vests that Erik outfits them in, and is pretty good with his cutlass. So when they see a British ship sailing leisurely through the waters off the coast of Spain, he doesn’t think twice about his actions when Erik orders them to chase it down. Instead, he drags a reluctant Darwin to the deck and whoops with joy at the prospect of a new fight.

“This is a criminal act.” Darwin says sternly to Alex. Angel makes a gagging noise in the background and Alex makes one back at her.

Darwin is not a very good pirate. But he looks better than Alex does in his white shirt, and that’s saying something.

.

So they board the British ship, screaming and yelling and generally having a good time. Alex whirls his way through the ship’s crew, who are thugs and not really cut out to face pirates. He’s having a grand time, until Angel bellows “ _Naval officers!”_ , and oh shit, that is Not Good.

Alex turns and sprints to where he heard her cry, to see that she’s locked in a strangely acrobatic fight with a blonde girl. It’s not that Angel is losing, per say, it’s that…she’s not exactly winning. Alex hears movement behind him and whirls around to parry an attack just in time, coming face to face with the most _ridiculously gorgeous man_. Alex barely has time to glimpse a pretty mouth and deep blue eyes with long lashes before the man is moving sinuously and engaging him in a swordfight. Alex is good – they don’t call him Havok for nothing – but the other man is surprisingly decent.

The man moves, Alex blocks, the man sidesteps, Alex slides in and neatly disarms him. In response, the man ducks under the cutlass and twists around, managing to tackle Alex to the ground.

“Oooh, playing dirty.” Alex says, smirking. This seems to throw the man off kilter, as he blinks owlishly. Alex uses the momentary distraction to roll over and pin him with a sword at his throat.

“Surrender.” He says, his eyebrows raised.

“Not gonna kill me?” The man responds.

“You’re too pretty.” Alex allows graciously.

“We’re leaving.” Erik announces suddenly, and Alex looks up, outraged, to see him blushing furiously and studiously not looking at the shorter officer next to him, who’s leaning against the railing and sending besotted looks at Erik and seems to be enjoying himself tremendously.

“We’re _pirates_.” Angel says furiously from where she has the blonde in a chokehold.

“Yes,” Erik says, “pirates who are _leaving_.”

“Pirates don’t _leave_.” The man under Alex mutters quietly, and Alex snorts.

“Please get off of Hank.” The man next to Erik says politely to Alex, who looks down at Hank – _so_ pretty – before sighing and getting off of him.

“Keep it in your pants, old man.” He says snidely to Erik as he swings himself back aboard their ship.

.

Three days later, they dock and go out to a seedy tavern. Alex is barely buzzed when someone punches him across the cheek really, really hard.

“What the _fuck_?” he howls through the pain, and looks up to see the attractive naval officer – Hank, he remembers – from that awful experience three days ago. There’s a high red flush on the other man’s face, and he’s swaying slightly.

“That,” Hank says very accusingly, “is for pointin’ a sharp thingy at my neck.” Alex blinks at the clearly very drunk man in front of him. Gorgeous or not, Hank’s breath _reeks_ of alcohol.

“Fuck you.” Alex spits out as he cradles his aching jaw. “I’m a pirate, it’s my goddamn _job_.”

“I’ve heard of you.” Hank says, squinting at Alex. “Havok.” He burps. “You’re _pretty_.” Alex flushes as Hank leans into him and slides his cool fingers across Alex’s cheek.

“Oh god.”Alex says. “I know I’m a pirate, but what did I do to deserve this kind of torture?”

“Hank!” a voice calls, and a second later a blonde woman appears and Hank cheerfully drapes himself over her. “We’re leaving.” She says, glaring at Alex. Alex glares back and tries to not feel jealous of how close the two obviously are as they leave.

Sean appears next to Alex and claps him on the back. “Tough luck, man.” He says sympathetically. “You wanna bend over and let him fuck you six ways to Sunday, don’t you?” Alex stares at the younger man in abject horror.

.

A week later Alex bangs into Eric’s room to demand why they’re still docked and not out sailing yet, only to flail impressively and see himself right back out when he sees Erik’s naked torso entwined with another naked male torso.

“ _Lock your doors_.” He bellows, putting a hand out and stopping Angel from entering after him. Erik appears after a few seconds with nothing but his trousers on, looking sullen and murderous as usual, blocking the doorway with his frame.

“Why are you here? Get out.” He says menacingly, but Alex has pretty much lost all fear of the man after the whole debacle of _leaving_ the ship they were looting. The man’s a bleeding heart.

“I’m just embarrassed for you.” He informs Eric.

“Is this one of the young men in your employ?” A pleasant voice calls out, and then the officer from the ship they’d left steps out from behind Erik, also clad in only trousers. Angel gapes.

“Is this why we embarrassed ourselves? You let yourself be won over by a – a -  _gentleman_?” she spits out as if it’s a curse. Judging by the man’s amused eyebrow, it really isn’t.

“Charles Xavier, captain of the H.M.S. Mutant.” He says. “You must be the one who was holding a sword to Hank’s throat, and you must be the girl who was choking Raven.” Though the man’s voice is pleasant, his eyes are downright murderous when he talks about Hank and Raven, and Alex feels himself getting petulantly angry.

“Havok.” He says to introduce himself. “That’s Angel.”

“Ah yes.” Charles responds. “I’ve heard of you.”

“Yeah.” Alex says shortly. “We’re pirates, and you’ve got our captain wrapped around your little finger – don’t make that face at me, it’s true – and I don’t like it.” Angel places a warning hand on his back, reminding him to keep his infamous temper in check.

“Well.” Charles says, and now he’s almost whining. “That’s not entirely fair; Erik’s got me wrapped around his finger too.” Erik opens his mouth, frowning and looking astonished at that, when Darwin rounds the corner and comes barreling down the hallway.  
“We have to get out, the Portugese are looking for us. Something about a bounty on our heads.” He says. “Let’s go, lets – is that the naval officer? Are you sleeping with him? Is this _really the time_ -“

“And we’re all leaving right now before we have to repeat this awkward experience again.” Alex yells, herding Darwin and Angel back down the hall.

.

They get out of port just in time, with Erik still looking slightly besotted from Charles and Alex still slightly nauseated at the fact that Erik is sleeping with someone. It’s just wrong, is what it is.

Erik comes around once they’re out in calm waters and looks sheepish, or as sheepish as a murderer can look, which is not very much at all.

“Charles is-“ he begins, before Angel sniggers.

“Really attractive?” she asks, and Erik flushes an ugly shade of red.

“Don’t talk about him like that.” He says, his voice cold and smooth. “He’s under my protection.”

“Why do we still call ourselves pirates?” Darwin asks, throwing his hands up in exasperation. The crew around them grunts. Someone shouts out, “It’s the leather vests!”

.

Three days later, Sean and Alex are sparring on deck when they come across a still-smoldering shipwreck in the ocean. They draw near it with considerable interest – until they see people clinging to the splintered wooden beams desperately, struggling to stay afloat.

Because Alex has _the worst luck in the whole fucking world_ , the survivors are the naval officers from before – Charles, Hank, and Raven. Most importantly, _Hank_ , climbing on the deck with his entire outfit clinging to every plane of his body, water trickling down his long eyelashes and into the hollow of his neck. Alex wants to lick him clean, hear the noises he would make. Alex is so screwed it’s not even funny.

He hurries forward before he can second-guess himself and wraps a thick blanket around the taller man, studiously ignoring Erik clasping Charles in his arms like the rugged pirate and swooning damsel in distress the two really are. Hank looks at Alex, bites his lip, and tugs the blanket closer around his shoulders.

“Thanks.” He croaks out. Alex takes a good look at him, now that they’re neither fighting nor drunk. Hank hunches inwards, trying to make himself small, walking as if he expects someone to hit him. He really is gorgeous, Alex thinks desperately, in the kind of way that is definitely too good for a pirate.

“You can have the hammock next to Alex.” Sean chimes in from where he’s sitting on top of a barrel. Hank looks relieved at that.

“Oh.” He says. “You’re not going to exhort us for money, then. I’m glad.” He smiles prettily, and Alex groans.

“We’re _pirates_.” Alex mutters. “You can’t _say_ stuff like that, Bozo. Do you have any self-preservation skills?”

“Well.” Hank stutters, looking unsure suddenly, “I just – I mean, the Professor and Erik –“

“Magneto!” Erik miraculously manages to bellow at Hank, still listening despite kissing the living daylights out of Charles, who Alex presumes is the Professor.

“-er, Magneto,” Hank corrects himself, “And, you – didn’t kill me before, and I just thought – the logical conclusion – “

Sean elbows Alex from behind, hard, and Alex snaps out of his daze as he watches the blush darken Hank’s cheeks.

“No, yeah, we’re – you’re welcome here!” Alex interjects quickly, “I just – be careful around other pirates. Let me introduce you to the crew.” Hank smiles again, his eyes wide, and Alex allows himself a small moment of swooning over them, before he shakes himself out of it and continues on.

.

Hank is – Hank is pretty much killing Alex. It’s a good three days sail to the next port, where Charles and his remaining men and women are going to rest and go about getting another ship, which means three days of Hank wearing the loose fitting white shirt they all wear and cheerfully working on deck. He spends most of his time running around on the sails and making adjustments, because he turns out to be a freaky genius who calculates the wind speed in his mind. Both he and Charles can get lost for hours making changes to the ship to be more _efficient_.

“It’s not fair.” Alex moans to Angel, gesturing towards where Charles and Hank are plotting their course. “How come he’s gotta be showing off all…that? Put a shirt on! The sun’s out! Don’t people have common decency?”

“Your shirt is more open than his is. Believe me, I think he’s suffering more than you are.” Angel mutters darkly, glaring at Alex. She has to listen to him because one time Angel got drunk and composed an ode to Darwin’s body that neither of them will ever forget. Angel can’t ever judge him for this complaining.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alex demands, but Angel rolls her eyes and Hank is coming over before he can get her to answer.

“Alex!” Hank says, smiling brightly, and see, this is the problem. No matter what he’s doing, Hank greets Alex like Alex is his favorite person in the world. With everyone else, Hank gives a faint, distracted little grin and leaves it at that. With Alex, Hank _beams_. It’s something to do with the fact that Alex was the one that took care of Hank after the shipwreck, but it’s fast becoming an addiction.

“Hey.” Alex says, grinning back. “Done messing the ship up?” Hank makes a face.

“We changed the course to save time.” Hank says. “The sooner I can get some real clothes, the better.”

“These are real clothes.” Alex says, affronted, gesturing at himself.

“Clothes that don’t scream ‘take me now, you handsome pirate’.” Hank responds drily. Alex is momentarily stunned.

“You think I’m handsome?” He asks, smirking.

“The _clothes_ , Alex.” Hank says, flushing bright red. “They look like they came straight out of the costume rack at one of the cheap alley shows about pirates kidnapping maidens throughout the seven seas.”

“I kidnapped a dog once.” Alex says gleefully. “He was so cute. His name was Barkbeard.”

“See?” Hank says gently. “You’re basically straight out of a cliché.”

It occurs to Alex, later, that Hank never denied thinking he was handsome.

.

The last night before they’re scheduled to arrive at the port, Alex finds Hank standing at the railing, peering at the stars. Alex walks up near him and cranes his neck up as well.

“Where I live, the stars come out like this.” Hank says wistfully. “It’s open and wonderfully devoid of human life.”

“Well that’s a charming description.” Alex snipes. Hank smiles a quiet, private smile.

“It’s a good thing, for me.” He says quietly. “Most people can’t stand me. I’m not charming, and I’m too smart. I don’t need interaction with the masses who I can barely stand, just those who mean something to me.”

“I can stand you.” Alex croaks out, his throat dry as he feels himself begin to blush furiously. “You – I like that you’re smart. It’s nice. And most people hate that I’m aggressive and harsh, so – it works out.” Hank makes a noncommittal noise and bumps his shoulder against Alex’s companionably.

“Mmm.” He says. “I’m not cut out for the life of a naval officer. I think I want to go back to Charles’ estate, where I live and work. I’m a scientist, not a…” Hank struggles to find the words, and Alex finishes for him with a growing sense of dread.

“Not a pirate.” Alex says, grinning despite the sharp pain blooming in his chest. Hank frowns.

“I don’t – no.” he sighs, and Alex closes his eyes briefly and shakes his head.

“Yeah.” He says, quietly, looking at Hank while Hank looks back at the stars. “Yeah, I get it.”

.

They dock, they drop everyone off, and they continue sailing as if nothing’s happened. Alex doesn’t even know where they’re going at this point, because he feels a little hollow.

“Were you like – in love with him?” Angel asks at one point, a strange look on her face.

“No.” Alex manages to get out after a choking fit. “We didn’t know each other long enough for _that_ , are you kidding me? But – but I wanted to try with him.”

Erik is moping too, though his way of showing it, funny enough, is by doubling down on their raids. They have more gold in their coffers and more disgruntled merchants than ever before. And a higher body count than before.

“See, this is the problem.” Alex hears Erik muttering once. “I kill people regularly. Charles saves them. It’s like a match made in hell.” Alex slinks away before he hears anything about their sex life, which the rest of the crew reports Erik likes to loudly get into when he’s a few drinks too deep with them.

The thing about matches made in hell, or heaven, or _wherever_ , is that they were still made, you know? Someone out there still created Hank, this amazing, imperfectly gorgeous man, and that someone decided that he was just _made_ for this idiot pirate. Alex expounds on this idea to Sean, who mostly nods and looks suitably impressed for twenty minutes before Alex can figure out that Sean is definitely high.

“Where are you even getting drugs?” he asks, baffled. “We’re at _sea_.”

He doesn’t get an answer to that, but he doesn’t need to, because the next thing he knows fucking _Shaw_ is attacking their ship. Shaw is the worst pirate to sail the seas, because not only does he not have morals (like the rest of them), he’s also a psychopath (unlike the rest of them), and is just plain _cruel_.

They survive the attack, but barely, and their poor ship limps into port. They assemble around a table in an inn, too exhausted to even consider their usual taverns, and stare silently at each other.

“We need to lay low for a while.” Darwin finally says, quietly, risking a glance at Erik. The ship has been Erik’s _life_ , lovingly bought and repaired and honed over the years to become a feared vessel.

“We’re getting the ship back.” Erik says, only his heart isn’t in it, and to be honest, neither is Alex’s. He drains his subpar beer and doesn’t say what he wants to say, which is that he loves the sea but he doesn’t know if that’s enough for him anymore.

They all disperse to their rooms, and Alex is so apathetic about everything that he doesn’t even make a lewd comment about Angel and Darwin retiring to the same room when, let’s be honest, he really should. It’s just too easy. Instead, all he can think about is how it’s not _fair_ that they get to find the person that’s it for them and it all happens to work out and they’re both in the same profession, how _convenient_! And he falls asleep irrationally angry.

That anger continues through to the next day, where he stomps around the port looking for work (which nobody gives him, because who in their right mind would employ a man who looks _this close_ to killing somebody). A girl with red hair finally takes pity on him and tells him that the master of an estate a little ways out of port is looking for some laborers and he figures, why not. The mindless heavy lifting will help clear some of the anger that’s clouding over his head and making everything seem ready to explode at his touch.

He recruits Darwin, Sean, and Angel, and they head off. By the time they make their way to the end of the stone path, where they can see a large manor rising out of the thick woods, Alex has a strange feeling, like he’s looking at something he’s seen before. The sign outside says Xavier Estate, and Alex wracks his brains trying to figure out where he’s heard that before, when the door opens and _Charles_ steps out. Darwin makes a faintly outraged noise, and Alex can’t speak because if Charles lives _here,_ then that means –

Hank appears next to Charles, looking sharp in a tailored waistcoat and trousers that emphasize the lean lines of his legs. His hair is mussed, as if he’s been running his hands through it, and his eyes are squinting behind his glasses in the afternoon sun. His mouth is slightly parted, he looks a little stupid, and he’s still undoubtedly the most brilliant thing Alex has ever seen.

“Fuck.” He whispers, and Angel cuts him a smug look, like _see, I was totally right, you’re totally in love with him_ , and he wants to flip her a rude gesture with his hands but the problem is she could, possibly, be right.

.

Charles invites them in and insists on dinner, and they all sit a little awkwardly in the most posh waiting room Alex has ever seen, waiting for Charles’ messenger to go get Erik from town. Alex is still all vibrating edges and sharp anger, so he doesn’t answer Hank’s multiple attempts to talk to him and instead grunts out short, one-syllable answers. He can _see_ the moment Hank admits defeat and his shoulders sort of slump, the smile dimmed to a grimace.

“I’m going to my lab.” Hanks says hastily, and all but runs out of the room. Raven, who’s been playing charming hostess and getting along well with Angel, glares with the force of a thousand suns at Alex. Alex, who is already keyed up, glares back.

“Some people,” she articulates clearly, “will never be _smart enough_ for a certain type of life.” And _oh_ , that cuts, right in the way she meant it to, and Alex flushes, humiliated. He’s still wearing a variant of his pirates outfit, his loose shirt and vest and he suddenly feels vulnerable, exposed. Sean puts a hand on his arm, and it’s only then that Alex notices he’s practically _vibrating_ out of his skin. He needs to get his anger out _now_ , before he loses himself and repeats the one thing that actually messed up his life, all those years ago, before Erik rescued him from life in prison.

“I need some air.” He mutters instead, and manages to find his way outside the manor. He finds the nearest tree and punches it as hard as he can, his mouth open on a soundless scream. There’s an energy curled in his chest that feels achy and raw, churning in his mind and making his insides curl in agony. He can’t get it _out_ of his head, and he punches the tree again, _hard,_ he wants, he need to hurt, to feel like he’s on fire and everything is red-

“Stop, stop, no, what-“ an frantic voice cuts through his haze, and he blinks, dazed, as cold fingers grip his wrist and propel him backwards. He looks up to see Hank, his mouth set in a worried frown, talking rapidly as his fingers flutter over the raw skin on Alex’s knuckles.

“What is _wrong_ with you, why can’t you punch something softer, like a pillow, why do – I shouldn’t even be out here, I told myself I would ignore you, why can’t I ignore people who clearly are ignoring me? – why do you get like this, do you think it has something to do with how your brain associates pain and anxiety – _Alex_.” Hank says, finally stopping, smoothing his thumb over Alex’s fingers. Alex is looking up at Hank kind of desperately, and he’s pretty sure a little pathetically. “Is this what you meant by – anger issues?”

“I used to – pick fights with guys nearly three times my size. Hitting things was some form of terrible stress relief, only the stress is always _there_.” Alex trails off, unable to explain himself. Hank drops Alex’s hand gently and starts walking.

“Come to my lab, I can take a look at those scrapes there.” He says, and Alex follows obediently. “I bet it’s some variant of anxiety, expressed through aggression. It’s actually quite common, it’s from the primitive remnants of our – “

“Gee, thanks.” Alex mutters, trying to be funny and instead coming across as hurt.

“Not, not you.” Hank blinks, like the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “Parts of your brain are rebelling against you, making you use anger as an ineffective coping mechanism – how can you blame yourself for that? Don’t be ridiculous.” He says sternly, and something wild in Alex’s chest settles at Hank’s dismissal that Alex is the problem. He knows, logically, that he can’t be, that there’s something wired wrong that probably could have been fixed with a normal childhood – but there’s a lovely quality in having someone say, out loud, that Alex is okay.

Hank opens a side door and walks into a spacious, airy working room with large windows. He busies himself getting something out of a cabinet, his back to Alex, as he asks, something quiet and afraid in his tone, “Is that why – you wouldn’t talk to me? Earlier?”

“Yeah.” Alex says. “I’m sorry, I just – I was already angry when we got here, and seeing you threw me off.” Hank turns around and _beams_ at him, a blinding sort of smile, and Alex grins back because how can he not?

“That’s alright then.” Hank says, something happy in his tone. “What happened anyway, why are you guys here?”

“We got in a scuffle with Shaw – we left them all for dead, but we barely made it through ourselves. The ship is…not in good shape. I don’t know if it’s going to be salvaged.” Alex admits. Hank moves over and starts dabbing something on Alex’s knuckles that sting.

“I’m so sorry about your ship.” Hank says, frowning. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re alive. All alive. That all of you are alive. Not just you. But, you know, the others.” A deep blush spreads across Hank’s features, and Alex is fascinated.

“Thanks.” He says, genuinely touched by Hank’s rambling. “It’s not entirely a bad thing. I love the sea, but,” he squirms, “I’ve been thinking of, I dunno, a change in profession.”

“ _Really_?” Hank asks, happily.

“Don’t get too excited. I could still kill people!” Alex says threateningly, but he doesn’t think it has quite the intended effect because Hank is laughing at him.

.

Dinner that night is fun, more fun than Alex can remember ever having in a long time. Sean does his impression of sea creatures – a bizarre thing that, Alex has told him multiple times, shouldn’t be brought up while people are _eating_ , for God’s sake – and Raven seems to actually like them, which has Alex secretly pleased. Anyone who can appreciate Sean, despite his obviously half-baked state, is alright by him. Erik and Charles keep flirting with each other in what they think passes for a subtle tone, and Alex keeps making gagging faces at them. Hank laughs every time Alex makes a face, and Hank’s laughter is a bright, happy thing that Alex never wants to forget.

Later, over dessert, Charles says, hesitantly, “I will, of course, pay for your ship to be repaired as soon as possible?” He phrases it like a question, and Alex can hear the unspoken part of it, the _are you going to leave me_? It’s a strangely tender moment, and Alex feels like they’re all intruding when  Erik says “No!” too quickly, too sharply. Charles looks stunned, then hopeful.

“No.” Erik repeats, softer. “I don’t plan on sailing her again. Those days are behind me, Charles. I don’t regret them,” he says firmly, “but neither will I regress to them.” They look at each other, hungrily, and while it’s a sweet moment Alex sort of wants to _leave_ , before they start hooking up or whatever. He looks at Hank, who has the same strange mixture of fondness and disgust on his face.

“Alright!” Raven says cheerfully. “How about I show you all our gardens?” They all _leap_ to follow her, tumbling out into the fresh cool air, talking animatedly over each other about Erik and Charles and this recent development.

“Charles didn’t mention it,” Hank says to Alex quietly, as they walk a little way out of earshot of the others, “but he’s planning on extending an offer to stay for all of you. He says he needs the help, both on the estate and around town, and he’s fond of all of you.”

“Fond of _pirates_?” Alex asks, admiringly. “Charles has a very progressive mind. Or maybe it’s the sex confusing him.”

“ _Alex_.” Hank scolds, flushing red again, but he’s smiling, and Alex knocks his shoulder companionably against Hank’s.

“I’ve been thinking.” Alex says, hesitantly, “that I could get a job repairing ships on the dock. It’s something I’m actually good at, so…” Hank blinks owlishly at him.

“Are you saying you’ll stay?” he asks Alex, his voice suddenly hoarse. Alex shrugs uncomfortably. The truth was that he’d made his mind up the instant he saw Hank standing at the front door of the manor and felt like he’d come home. There was no way he was leaving again, not even if Hank never felt the same way Alex did. As long as he was near Hank, he would be okay.

That turns out not to really _matter_ , because when Alex says “Yeah, I’m gonna stay.” Hank chokes out Alex’s name and suddenly bears down on him, turning and pushing Alex against the nearest tree.

“What-“ Alex begins, outraged, but the rest of the sentence is lost when Hank’s mouth presses up against his insistently, a soft kiss that turns deeper as Hank coaxes Alex’s bottom lip open and bites, soothing the pain away with his tongue and pushing his way into Alex’s mouth. Alex moans, caught off guard, and brings his hands up to grip Hank’s shoulders and haul him in as close as physically possible, relishing in the hard, unyielding heat of Hank’s body covering his own.

They break apart, panting softly, and Alex smiles giddily up at Hank. “I know I’m the pirate,” he says, “but I feel positively _ravished_ right now.” Hank groans and drops his head down to the crook of Alex’s neck. Alex laughs at Hank’s muttered “What kind of pirate even _says_ that” and cards his fingers through Hank’s hair. His ear is conveniently within reach, so Alex licks up the shell of Hank’s ear, and bites lightly, just to see his reaction. He doesn’t expect Hank’s hips to jerk forward roughly, pressing against the bulge in Alex’s pants, and _oh_ , Hank is hard. He bites again, and the answering moan that Hank gives goes straight to Alex’s cock.

“Shh.” Alex says, hauling Hank up, “the others will hear.” He captures Hank’s mouth in a filthy kiss and rolls his hips at the same time, and Hank’s hands shoot out to pin Alex in place against the tree. Alex breaks the kiss, surprised, to see that Hank’s pupils are blown wide, his blue eyes almost navy. He has a predatory look on his face that Alex didn’t even think was _possible_ for him to achieve, but _fuck_ does Hank look like sex personified.

“We’re not doing this here.” Hank rasps out, his voice low. Alex shivers, and then curses when he hears the sound of footsteps.

“ _Seriously_?” he hears Raven shriek, followed immediately by noises of everyone else turning tail and running the other way. “First the dining room, now the garden?”

Alex chances a glance up at Hank, who looks like he’s trying his hardest not to laugh.

“What are you thinking?” He asks, and then regrets it when Hank looks at him thoughtfully and smirks faintly.

“I’m thinking about making a Charles-and-Erik like dramatic entrance back into the house.” He murmurs, his voice still low and husky.

“Oh no,” Alex says, flushing red, “no, Hank, now is _not_ the time for you to develop crude humor-“ and Hank, laughing, swings Alex up into a bridal-style carry.

“ _Put me down_.” Alex hisses, but Hank kisses him while striding back to the house, and Alex is too busy being incredibly turned on by the sheer muscle strength in the arms holding him up and the wonderful things Hank can do with his mouth to really notice anything else.

.

After the thorough discovery that Hank’s big brain and big feet certainly extend to other parts of him as well, Alex props himself up lazily on Hank’s chest and gazes down at the other man.

“I _really_ like you.” He confesses, quietly. “Some might even say I love you.” He’s not as afraid to say it here, in the middle of the night, when it’s completely dark save for the faint moonlight streaming in and highlighting the look of complete adoration on Hank’s face.

“Some might even say _I_ love _you_.” Hank says back, tracing the line of Alex’s jaw. “I even _really_ like you.” He’s smiling, laughing at Alex now, and Alex slaps him half-heartedly.

“You sweet-talker, you.” He says.

“You _are_ the pirate.” Hank teases. “Where are your cheesy lines, your grand romantic gestures?”

“God,” Alex responds, mock-annoyed as he leans in for a kiss, “the fans are always so demanding.”

.

(Alex’s grand romantic gesture is that he doesn’t punch Hank when Hank decides to get a dog three weeks later and name it Barkbeard II. He thinks it _must_ be true love if he’s willing to put up with Barkbeard II.)

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> HEE HEE HEE BARKBEARD
> 
> EDIT: now you can find me on [ tumblr!!! ](http://eversall.tumblr.com/) i know, you're SO excited *sarcasm*


End file.
